Generation X
by The Flamekeeper
Summary: A dark, cloaked stranger makes a sudden appearance in the most unlikely of places; what comes next is anyone's guess.


Raven knew something was wrong the moment her mother burst into her room; Arella _always_ knocked.

Raven floated down from her lotus position, striding towards her mother in the sparsely furnished room and grasped her shaking hands, purple eyes searching.

At first, Raven thought Arella was bringing her news that Azar had passed. The wise woman had been sick for some time, and nowadays, her people counted every day, every second they had with their strong, pacifist ruler. They mourned every cough, every pant to regain breath. Raven herself had lost more than one night of sleep crying for her.

But no. Surely Arella would break the news much more gently, instead of coming in unannounced.

"Arella, what is it?" Arella stared down at her daughter, reaching a hand over to tuck a violet strand of hair behind her ear. Raven froze, feeling deeply unsettled; Arella had never been an affectionate mother. And though her cell-like room had always been drafty, Raven suddenly felt chilled to the bone.

Arella stared down at her daughter, burning Raven's image into her memory, and Raven felt the first tinge of fear.

"Arella, please! You're scaring me." As if waking herself up, or banishing troublesome thoughts from her mind, Arella shook her head and released her grip on her daughter. When Arella procured a bag and began putting Raven's meager belongings in it, ice seemed to slip into Raven's heart.

"Arel-"

"You must leave," Arella said with hard-won steadiness.

Raven stood stock still, frozen as her mother threw her few clothes, cloaks, and books into the small bag. She looked from the candles burning in her small window, the silver and obsidian mirror by her bed, the runes of peace and tranquility over her doorway as Arella seized them one by one. Was this really happening?

"Go-where?" Raven managed.

"Earth. Straight away. Help me pack your things." Raven continued to stare, dumbfounded, and Arella tried not to meet her eyes, biting her lip.

After a moment's hesitation, Raven moved forward, placing a pale hand over her mother's tan one, and the woman was forced to stop, her black eyes full of anxiety as she looked at her little girl.

_'Not a little girl anymore,' _Arella thought grimly.

It would hardly make matters any better.

"Arella, what is happening? Did I-Have I done something wrong?" Raven's voice shook despite her best efforts, and the two jumped when one of Raven's many candles launched itself at a wall. Arella leveled Raven with a look and the dark girl blanched.

"I'm breathing, I'm breathing!" Raven willed her heart to slow, closing her eyes.

"If you are going to survive on earth, you will have to maintain better control over your powers." Her tone was half-scolding, half-sad.

When Raven opened her eyes, Arella was standing next to her pallet, the bag clutched in her tense hands. Raven felt the sudden urge to lurch forward and grab the bag from her hands, to stand still and quite unmoveable, maybe stomp her foot and cry, 'I'm not going anywhere!'

But instead, she tightened her hands into fists, willing herself calm.

"Arella, this is ridiculous! What is going on?" Fear and confusion tainted her young voice and Arella sighed, placing the bag in Raven's hands. She cupped her daughter's cheeks, her expression both sad and apologetic.

"You are of age now. Azarath can no longer provide sanctuary for you."

It felt as if she's been slapped in the face. Raven gasped, backing away from her mother and colliding with a wall, dropping her bag to the floor. She stared at her mother with horror for a moment, knowing she was speaking the truth. She didn't cry; she was beyond tears.

Arella's face crumpled at the sight of Raven's devastation and she swept across the room, enveloping her in a hug. Raven clung to her mother and Arella blinked back tears, wishing the two could disappear somewhere safe.

"I don't understand," Raven said shakily. "I-I thought I had more time." Her voice became harsh, almost angry. "Do they fear me _this _much?" Arella took in a shuddering breath at the force behind her daughter's words, never able to quite conquer her fear of the power that lurked inside her. She held her daughter at arm's length, putting distance between herself and Raven.

"Come, now. We must behave rationally. We haven't much time left." Arella was at the door in a swirl of white fabric, and she pulled up her hood to conceal her expression. Raven looked over her shoulder. She hardly hoarded, and her small, modest room was barren. There was hardly a trace that she had ever been there for seventeen years of her life. She glanced at her mother, and seeing her with her white hood up, she was like a stranger. As Raven followed her out, she felt as if she were going to the pyre, following the executioner.

As they walked through the temple grounds, Raven found herself looking at everything her eyes could take in. The maple trees that had shaded her through many a meditation. The temple of prayer, where she had spent many hours searching for answers in a world she felt she truly did not belong. And there, at the tallest building; how many times was it that Raven snuck there in the dark of the night, testing the limits of her powers through flight?

Soon they would be gone, all gone.

Raven couldn't think of a better time to conceal her face, and she reached up behind her back, tugging down the hood to her indigo cloak. Bag in tow, the two women walked the short distance across the flowered courtyard to the smooth, shining marble steps of the sacred temple. Waiting there stood the assembled monks elders of Azarath. Raven swallowed at the sight of them in their dark robes, their expressionless gazes watching them approach with a hawk-eyed intensity. As the two finished mounting the steps, one stepped forward, sweeping a dismissive look over Raven and her belongings, and addressed Arella.

"Is everything ready?" Arella gave a curt nod; perhaps she found speech too difficult now that she was about to lose her daughter.

There was a tense moment where Arella looked, jaw locked, into the distance. The monks looked at Raven, and internally the young woman cringed at their judgement. She didn't know what was expected of her, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so abandoned and miserable.

"Come here, child." The entire assembled group started. Azar approached them, and despite the illness that plagued her, her eyes were as sharp and keen as ever, her posture erect and firm. The sight of their ruler made Raven's violet eyes go wide, the enormity of what was about to happen finally sinking in.

The sun shone on Azar's long white hair like a halo, and she beckoned Raven closer with a motion of her hand. Raven stepped forward, willing her chin not to quiver. She was Raven, she would be strong.

The elderly woman grasped her pale hand in her own, her face sympathetic. "It is with sorrow that we send you from this place. But we have not the abilities to protect you, or ourselves. Start your new life on Earth with courage." Raven nodded, only slightly comforted by her words. At least _she_ seemed to feel a little remorse. Azar stepped aside, and Raven finally noticed the intricately drawn pentagram on the smooth floor.

Raven didn't need to be told what to do next.

She walked forward, stepping in the middle of the design, and placed her bag carefully by her feet. She sucked in a deep breath and opened glowing, white eyes. Raising her hands above her head, she spoke the invocation of assembled group said nothing as foreign words fell from the pale girl's lips like rain, pure, raw power circling her as her hair flew away from her face and her body was surrounded with black energy. She made phantom symbols with her hands, the power following her motions until it swirled in a circle, glowing brighter and brighter until it grew to the size of a door. When Raven lowered her arms, closing her eyes, the portal glowed bright, as mystifying as it was intimidating. Who knew what awaited Raven on the other side?

With a determination her mother did not think her capable of, Raven picked up her bag and looked over her shoulder at Arella. Both guarded their expressions, both would never admit to weakness.

"Goodbye, Mother." Raven stepped forward, allowing the light to envelop her, and was gone in a flash. A single tear slid down Arella's cheek.

"Goodbye, my child."

* * *

**So I have a slew of stories half-written that I just dusted off and looked at again and thought 'What the heck?' So I'm posting a few of them. 'Cause I do what I want. :)**

**-F**


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